


Touched By His Noodley Appendage

by winterwolf212



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Religion & Lore - Ambiguous Fandom, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Harry Potter Dies, Harry is a Flying Spaghetti Monster, Harry is a Little Shit, Monsters, Why? Why not?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 22:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13304586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwolf212/pseuds/winterwolf212
Summary: Harry dedicated his whole life after defeating Voldemort into feeding and sheltering orphans.He had expected he would join his friends and family in the afterlife. Who'd have thought he'd be reborn as a Flying Spaghetti Monster for all the good deeds he'd done for humanity.Harry angrily waves his noodley appendages at the moon. Damn you!





	Touched By His Noodley Appendage

_Year: 1874_

When Harry finally defeated Voldemort in the final battle, he felt a hundred times lighter, like he could finally breath. The invisible burden on his shoulders was gone and never to return. 

Elated and joyous, he celebrated along with everyone else in the castle. But once the partying died down, and the dust settled. Harry could see the long reaching affects of Voldemort's reign of terror. 

He looked on helplessly as magical children were sent off to muggle orphanages, when he tried voicing his opinion there was always someone who'd say, 'There are always casualties in war.' But, they're no longer in a war, he made sure of that. And they can't turn a blind eye to these 'casualities', instead they should do something about this problem. But the wizarding world didn't care. They were far too busy rebuilding what's left of itself and letting the small details fall into the wayside.

Not for Harry though.

So after three months of being constantly disappointed at the abysmal efforts the ministry had done for the orphans, he took matters into his own hands and started planning the construction of the first magical orphanage in England.

He first acquired ownership of all the house elves left behind by dead and incarcerated Deatheaters. This detail took him almost a month before he got the amount he wanted. Then he filed for a request to build an orphanage to Kingsley Shacklebolt, the interim Minister of Magic.

Harry calls him MoM every now and then.

Kingsley wasn't about to reject the man who defeated Voldemort, not when the public was still worshipping the very ground he walked on, and instantly accepted his request. Kingsley silently hopes Harry's endeavor would be successful.

Hermione saw his efforts earlier on at the start of the construction and instantly jumped in to help him. Scolding him first for keeping the project to himself instead of asking help from his friends.

Once Harry was properly chastised Hermione then approached Kingsley and proposed a new ministry department. The Department of Magical Child and Youth Welfare. 

She had originally wanted it to be named the Department of Orphaned Magical Youths or 'DOOMY' but Harry managed to intervene just in time.

She came prepared and did a lengthy report coupled with statistics of orphaned children and the benefits of having such department in the ministry.

Kingsley was well and truly defeated thirty minutes into her proposal and agreed on the creation of the department as long as she became the head of the office. Kingsley chose to ignore her rather smug smile at his easy acceptance to her proposal.

During the time she was bullying the minister and his lackeys to do her bidding, Harry was busy constructing his orphanage. He wanted it to be homey, and have lots of rooms for children to bond and play. He placed special attention to both the dining hall and the kitchens by making them extra large as well as assigning many house elves to operate them.

His main goal was to have no children go hungry, while he knew that goals is just about impossible, he also knew what it felt to starve. Hunger was his constant state as he grew up under the care of the Dursleys. He was not about to let another child go through what he did, not if he could help it.

So he ordered a couple of house elves to buy large plots of land for farm and produce. With the use of magic and some help from Neville Longbottom, he had the farms set up and producing food in no time.

_Year: 1875_

The magical orphanage wasn't ready yet due to some last minute wards being placed but the produce in his farms was already available. 

During that time he decided to take a look at the local muggle orphanage and his heart almost tore in two seeing the state of some of the children. The orphanage itself was doing fine but had to ration their food to fit their budget. 'If sometimes that meant having the same old porridge for breakfast everyday, then so be it, as long as they have something warm in their stomachs.' The words of what one caretaker told him.

Looking at them he got an idea. He set up a small production line in one of his farms. The house elves would collect the produce and it would be placed into large reusable bags and every week a handful of elves would transport fresh produce onto the steps of local orphanages around London.

_Year: 1876_

A couple of months passed and by the time he had the production line going smoothly, the first magical orphanage in England is finally ready to open and fit for children. He had a couple of classmates come forward and expressed the desire to work in the orphanage. Lavender Brown surprised him the most by being one of the first to approach him.

After a glorious and grand opening ceremony, complete with paparazzo and a lot of politicians. Hermione slowly transferred all of the magical orphans she could find into the orphanage.

Easily over a hundred children filled the halls once she was done relocating the orphaned children and teenagers. 

Harry wasn't expecting it to be this bad. The war had affected everyone, far worse than he had assumed. Nevertheless he continued on, assigning more house elves, adding more classrooms and hiring more wizards into his orphanage.

* * *

As the years passed by Harry steadily made more and more orphanages around the world. He mostly made only one magical orphanage per country with a large magical population. Then, once he was done with the magical side, he then made numerous muggle orphanages and schools for regular children. 

His main goal to feed and house children wasn't limited only to the magical population. Harry doesn't discriminate and tries to help any of those in need.

With more help from Hermione he started to donate food to homeless shelters and had set up a charity fund for families suffering through poverty. Food shortage was never an issue as he bought more and more land for agriculture, with the help of wizard and house-elf magic he managed to feed millions.

_Year: 1956_

By the time Harry celebrated his one hundredth birthday he was already one of the biggest food distributor in the whole world. Not only that but he had also ventured into other trades such as potions and medicine to acquire a steadier flow of income. 

He doesn't need to, not really, as he was already one of the richest wizard's alive. Mostly due to grateful wizards and witches willing their vaults to him before their deaths. Despite that, he won't be alive forever and his gold will one day run out, so he has countermeasures in place to ensure that his vision continues well after his death.

And it did. 

_Year: 1976_

When Harry Potter died at the age of one hundred and twenty, it was on the one hundredth anniversary of his first orphanage. The whole world stopped and mourned his passing. He was known in both the magical and the muggle world as 'The Giver' the man who spent his life feeding the poor and sheltering the homeless. 

He was celebrated as a hero and a saint, along with his friends who helped him along the way.

* * *

_Year: 1990_

When Harry woke up his first thought was that he would be in Kings Cross Station. Like the last time he'd died. 

But he was having trouble seeing, it was like he could see everything around him all at once and it was incredibly disorienting. 

Feeling dizzy he closed his eyes to stop himself from vomiting. That was when he noticed something peculiar, he can't feel his lips... in fact, he can't feel his face at all. He opened his eyes again in shock and was instantly assaulted by perspectives from different angles. 

Swiftly closing his eyes again he took a deep breath. Somehow he was breathing, from somewhere, but certainly not by his mouth. 

He slowly opened one eye. 

Everything was clearer and easier to see. Much to his horror he felt 'muscles' attached to his eye and it allowed him to move his eye freely. He found that he could move it up, down, sideways and back.

Afraid but determined he then turned the eye towards himself. 

The sight was horrifying.

There were hundreds of pale strands of... of something. It came together into a ball where his body should be. 

And his face, or to be precise, where his face should be, were two large brown balls with thick red liquid oozing on top. He shuddered in disgust and felt even more ill after seeing himself wiggling around.

Trying and failing to calm himself down he closed his eye again. His thoughts were racing. How and why was he like this... this eldritch abomination.

Just as he was on the verge of passing out he felt rays of light shine upon his body, it was like magic. He could feel warmth and a presence looking down on him.

'What am I?' He shouted in his mind. If he had a mouth he would have said it at the presence.

Opening his eyes once again he somehow managed to make them steady and focus on the source of the light. To his surprise and amazement, the magical rays came from the moon. 

The moon brightened as if responding to his wonder, then from his mind came a trickle of words not from his own.

'You've been reborn... Harry Potter...'

'What?!'

'You are now Henris P. Ghettimonstre.'

'What in blazes? Explain!' He demanded but the moon stopped shining his light and dimmed.

Harry continued to curse and shout at the moon to no avail. It ignored him and if he hadn't seen it with his two noodly eyes he wouldn't have believed it.

Wait. Noodly? He focused again on his body. Clumsily willing one appendage to fly up near his face. He lost control and it slapped his eye, the world tipped and rolled as he silently screamed in pain.

He calmed down after a few minutes and tried again. He squinted at the appendage and inspected it on all sides. 

Wiggling it around he raised it up against the sky. Light could pass through the edges, somehow it has no blood, and it was almost like pasta, he thought. Startled he turned his eyeball back to look at his face. Looking closely at himself he looked like two round balls of cooked meat. 

He twitched his eyes upward to look at the thick red liquid covering the two meatballs. Squinting once again he could tell it wasn't blood just from the color and consistency alone, but looking closer he could find small specks of green in the red, like herbs in a sauce.

... _wait_

Pasta-like appendages... round balls of cooked meat... thick red sauce.

He's a giant spaghetti and meatballs... with eyes!

Harry slowly swayed until he fell like limp noodles, fainting from shock. His last thoughts as he succumbed to darkness were.

_I hope no animal eats me._

* * *

_Year: 1991_

It wasn't so bad, he'd decided, once he's gotten used to the hundred floating appendages. It took awhile for him to get over not having a mouth though. Or does he? There's still a lot of mystery in his saucey body.

Finding out he could fly was the best part, and since then he has rarely brushed strands with the ground. Because, well, certainly no one wants dirty spaghetti and meatballs do they? Especially one that's been on the ground... 

...A hazy memory of Henris in elementary school suddenly passed through his dough-brain. A female classmate was picking up spaghetti pasta from the ground and ate it to everyone's dismay. He shuddered at the memory and his appendages resembled curly ramen noodles in his distress.

Henris, because that was his name now, had at first hidden himself from the human population. He was afraid that people would see him and immediately faint from a heart attack, or they'd think he's some kind of supernatural being (which he is) and perform experiments on him, or worse, try to eat him. 

But his worries were for naught as people couldn't see him at all, they even passed right through him! It was an incredibly awful feeling, and he makes sure it doesn't happen again.

He tried once to visit the wizarding world and was floating above Hogsmeade but backed out of actively searching for his remaining loved ones. Henris already knew he needed to let go of the world he once lived in. His bestfriends, Ron and Hermione, are already long gone. It still pains him to think that he would not be joining his friends and family in the afterlife. 

He tries not to think about it too much, mainly due to the fact that it always ends up with him raising his noodles in the air and silently cursing the moon at night.

So Henris has decided to move on, his orphanages and charity can function on their own without him. He has set up a deal with the goblins and placed house elves in charge for most of the operations. Now Hermione's grandchildren are probably handling everything on their own. 

Therefore Henris had a lot of time on his strands and since nobody could see him, he decided to visit parts of the world he has never went to before. Which was still a lot despite the philanthropic work he's done during his human life. 

So it was while traipsing through Niagara Falls that he learned how to properly function his multiple spaghetti strands. 

He had to, as he somehow got caught up in the raging water and almost fell off the falls if not for him grabbing a large rock with all his strength. It was also when he realized that he automatically produces spaghetti sauce whenever it washes off.

Then, it was during his first trip through the Alaskan wilderness that he realized that his noodles arent very receptive to negative freezing temperatures, although he had found a solution in the end, it was still jarring. But it wasn't so bad, mostly just stiff 'joints' and frozen tomato sauce, so it didn't really impede him on his journey.

It was also the first time he's ever encountered a fellow spirit. 

_Year: 1996_

Henris was floating around aimlessly while holding a jug of hot olive oil, he brings it around with him at all times in the cruel frozen tundra, better than any warming charm. It is to ensure he doesn't get too cold, or too dry and freeze his meatballs off.

One of his eyeballs spotted something. It pokes the other one to get its attention and they both swivel to look at something flying in the distance. His eyeballs squint and his other appendages float upwards to mimic binoculars over his eyes (it doesn't work). 

It was blue and looked to be human-shaped. His noodles clap together in glee as he flies rapidly to approach the interesting human. 

The human seemed to be holding a stick of some sort and white frost came out wherever it moved. Henris's eyeballs follow the stick like a dog before he forced them to look at the wielder. 

It was a young man, pale skinned and has peculiar silver hair. He was barefoot (ouch) and wearing a blue hoodie, how he could stand the cold Henris doesn't know. He was flying his way all the while painting the trees and plants with beautiful swirls of frost.

If Henris could speak he would have already gotten the attention of the young sprite. But alas he has no mouth-holes, the irony of being a walking pasta. So Henris does the next best thing and uses his appendages to roll up a couple of snowballs. 

His right eyeball looks at the left eyeball in a challenging way and the left responds by narrowing his eye threateningly. Challenge accepted. 

In a whirlwind of flying strands of spaghetti he throws tens of snowballs at the blue figure. 

"Ah! Ow, what the-- ow!" The young man shouted as the snowballs pelt him continuously.

"Stop it! Ow, stop! I said STOP!" he whirled his staff and a strong gust of wind blew the snowballs away.

Henris left eyeball shot the right a sassy look, lefty won the contest. 

"What the--" The young man quickly searched the area and immediately spotted the flying spaghetti. 

"WHAA!!" Jack flew up in alarm.

Henris wanted to introduce himself but doesn't know how to go about it except maybe a handshake. With that idea in mind he send out his strands towards the boy, hoping to get a handshake or a pat.

The young man saw the rapidly approaching starchy noodles and immediately freaked out. He sent a blast of ice magic at the appendages and quickly flew away. Going as fast as possible to get away from the weird tentacle monster.

Henris stared mournfully at the retreating figure before looking at his frozen strands. He had discovered a few things just then. First, it turns out his noodles can extend and extend with no problem at all on his part. 

And second... the blue being could see him.

_Year: 1999_

Henris P. Ghettimonstre flew through the plains of Africa. His eyeballs were looking every which way to stare at any passing wild animal. Lefty and Righty were engaged in a small eye-spy game. Henris might not be all there in the head (It's all the starch), but he has no one to keep him company through the years and his eyeball's antics keep him entertained. So he lets it be.

It was during this expedition that he felt a pang in his center. He paused and hovered over the air for a few seconds. 

Confusion flowed through his body. _Thud_. There it was again. It was a tugging sensation, almost like it was pulling him towards a certain direction. Left eyeball raised a small spaghettini-brow in question to the Right and it bobbed-shrugged in response.

Deciding to trust his gut he changed course and flew east. The tugging sensation was growing stronger until finally, he came upon a small ball on the ground. Investigating closer he discovered, much to his shock and horror, that it was a child. A small human child.

His body jiggled with rage that a child was left alone on the african wilderness with no parent in sight. Judging from the ribs sticking out and the stick like limbs of the child, he hasn't had any good meal in awhile.

Henris looks around in a panic, there was no water around and the nearest village is still a ways away. The boy needs to have something immediately. 

He doesn't know what it was at first, it flowed through him until he recognized the familiar thrum of his magic. His eyes widened in shock. He still has magic! His core never disappeared! Henris closed his eyes and felt his core. It was different, like it now serves a different purpose. 

His desire to find water must have activated his dormant core. His magic spread out from his strands and gathered together. If Henris had a mouth he would have gasped when water materialized in the air. 

His magic let go and gravity pulled it splashing to the ground. He stared in dismay at the rapidly drying puddle before thinking up a new plan. Henris thought of summoning a bowl at first but no matter how hard he tries, it doesn't work. Then he tries to summon water again, and with intense concentration that had him sweating tomato sauce, he managed to slowly guide the water to the child's lips.

It took awhile but after the boy gets a few gulps he starts flying to the nearest village with the precious cargo in tow. It doesn't take long until it was within sights. He relaxed and stealthily deposites the child in the nearest hospital, or what looked like a hospital.

For the next few days he observes the village, the boy was quickly taken in by the local doctors but Henris was getting increasingly frustrated by the lack of resources. The town itself was very poor and the slight throbbing in his core indicated that many of these people skip meals for no other reason than they didn't have enough to go around. Understandable, as the next village or town was quite far and they could only rely on themselves for the most part to feed their village. 

A couple of times a week there would be trucks that sell and trade some produce but the villagers weren't very rich to start with. 

So, before Henris could devise a plan, he still has to discover what he could do.

It took him awhile to figure out how his magic worked. It could summon food, but only the raw form, such as vegetables, fruit and water. He could not summon animals however, which was a bummer. He wanted to try riding a horse, why? It would look hilarious that's why. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make a cake appear out of thin air.

He has some form of levitation, more or less something like what muggles call 'Telekinesis'. Which would explain how he flies and moves in the first place.

Lastly, he's found out that his magic is very nutritious, by nutritious he means, very beneficial to crops and soil. It took him many days and a lot of trial and error until he managed to turn a plot of their land into rich soil fit for farming. 

He planted a couple of seeds he'd gathered from summoned vegetables and then used his nutritious magic to speed up the growth. He did this a couple more times around the village until the villagers started to notice. 

Henris can't lie, summoning vegetables and leaving it on people's doorsteps would be a much easier task to do. But that isn't a good solution for the long run, and ultimately, won't help the people once he decides to leave.

Therefore Henris was so happy his farming plan worked, but now that food production was out of the way, he looked around for more things to do. He spotted a couple of women carrying jars over their heads and decided to follow them. The women gathered and chatted with each other around a well. Henris perked up and approached the gathering, making sure not to let these women pass through him.

Henris peered into their local well, his right eyeball went down into the depths while his left stood by as a lookout for any villager that might approach him. Henris balked at the dirty brown water, he couldn't believe the people had been using this water!

Now fired up with a new mission Henris sends out his magic, filtering out the dirt and bacteria in the water. He still wasn't satisfied though, it doesn't seem to be enough but be doesn't know what else to do. He needs to make it more permanent somehow. 

His noodles shot up in the sky and formed into the shape of a lightbulb, he'd got it! Runes! Runes were the answer. 

Using one of his thinner strands, a spaghettini, he starts to practice carving into a brick he'd found on the side of the road. He has to check if it works before going ahead with his plan.

It didn't take him long as during his time as a human he had spent a lot of time into learning Runes, finding them very effective with farming and magical crafting. A more permanent solution to any spell.

After carving two runes he sent tendrils of his magic into the symbols. The runes on the brick glowed briefly before dimming. It worked! He clapped his noodles in joy. 

Henris had placed runes for strengthening and durability on the brick. Now it's time to test it out.

Henris ventured out into the African wilderness. Eyeballs looking every which way for any prey that might cross his path. It didn't take long before he spotted a native boar trotting around.

He approached it slowly with the brick in strands, he aimed. Henris threw the brick straight at the boar with all his strength, he might have been a tad overly dramatic as the boar was only three feet away, but nevertheleas he did it anyway. 

_SPLAT!_

Oh... oh no... 

Oh please forgive me. 

If he had a mouth he would have vomited by now. Henris looked away from the gory scene. It looked like a massacre, the blood could probably be seen from outer space! Alright, maybe not, but close enough he thinks.

Henris sent a silent apology to Pumba before floating back to the village, he also didn't forget to pick up Balthazar Rickley, Brickey for short. 

He hesitated a few meters away from the village, he had to break up a small argument between Lefty and Righty about cleaning up the boar, he sighed somehow and then flew back to the scene of the crime.

Henris washed the gory scene away with water and then carried the carcass back to the village, he left it near one of the houses and threw a pebble at one villager to get him to notice the boar. Would be a waste to leave it out in the open, plus people might suspect there's some kind of monster on the loose if they accidentally stumbled upon that scene. 

He floated into the village center and he didn't waste any time before diving into the well. With the water now clear and clean he starts engraving a string of runes. 

Maybe it was because the engraving was done in the dark but the previously sharp and clean cut runes done on Brickey did not appear again, as if another spaghetti with a different handwriting was doing the engraving. 

On their own the runes would serve a different purpose, but the interlocking runes he'd engraved formed a complex process that would result in abundance, preservation, protection, and purification. Henris imbibed the runes with his magic and it glowed brightly, illuminating the darkness for a brief moment before dimming down to a small shine. 

Henris perked up in curiosity, Brickey's runes weren't as strong as these, he wondered why. His eyeballs looked at the runes critically. The lines were curved, as if the runes were done in cursive. Henris felt that the cursive runes were stronger than regular runes. 

_Mmmmm... interesting._ It seems he might need to do more research. 

He was about to leave the well when he thought of something. Henris went back to the wall and started carving again.

Spaghetti strands vibrated in mirth as he flew back out of the well. 

Shaking his head(meatballs), he grabbed a couple more rocks and started engraving strings of noodley runes on the surface. It took him the better part of the afternoon until he had a sack-full of magical glowing rocks.

With the combination of hundreds of spaghetti strands and his useful telekinesis, he starts digging deep into the plots of land he'd nourished. Burying three stones with varying purposes; runes for protection, for agriculture and the last was a stone version of a battery filled with his magic. Henris continues to bury the stones into all the other areas he'd nourished. 

After burying these stones it would take a century later for the battery stone's magic to run out. Now the plots of land will continue to bear plump and juicy produce for the next couple of generations, supporting the village without him needing to continually recharge the magic.

Clapping his strands free of dirt he nodded to himself. His mission was done, he grabbed Brickey and flew away from the village. No one would know it was his doing, and he wouldn't mind either way, but he just couldn't resist leaving a symbol behind on all the stones he'd made, the exact same symbol he'd left in the well.

A symbol of a creature with two eyes and silly looking legs.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy :)
> 
> I've had this idea for awhile. I wrote this a month ago but I wasn't satisfied with the way it was going, but my mind was a blank so I just left it alone for a few weeks. Came back to this, erased the parts I didn't like and now I'm satisfied with where it ended.
> 
> This is a 'what if' story. This may have a sequel but for now let's leave it as it is.
> 
> P.S. It took awhile to get the Henris P. Ghettimonstre name, I was inspired by the names in Guardians, I'm just glad I worked it out... E. Aster, Toothiana... The P stands for Potter.


End file.
